


your wonder under summer skies

by sarcoline_sails



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Promises, Fluff, Lost Love, Love Letters, M/M, me not having any idea how island life works, message(s) in a bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcoline_sails/pseuds/sarcoline_sails
Summary: “The ring had done nothing wrong. The only one at fault was its previous owner.”-Niall was left behind, and Harry comes home.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Harry Styles
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71





	your wonder under summer skies

**Author's Note:**

> hi :))
> 
> a few things: one, this was written for a friend of mine a few days ago, but i wanted to post something in honour of harry’s DOB (💖); two, i really have no idea how pretty much anything works so all inaccuracies are unintentional; three, eroda is between ireland and england and i will never get over that despite the video releasing more than a month ago.
> 
> i hope you enjoy :)

Rolling waves gently rocked the boat of a lone fisherman as he unhooked his final salmon of the day. He hummed softly as he worked, though there was no audience to witness the beauty of his voice all the way out in the open sea. He dropped the writhing fish into his bucket and carefully set down his rod, picking up the oars of his old-fashioned rowboat and heading back toward the island.

The crystal blue waters were reflected in the fisherman’s riveting eyes, which focused on the faint outline of the all-to-familiar island that he called home. His arms burned from a day's hard work, though it would be better described as a dull ache that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

The route home was practically second nature to him, so he gratified his brain’s wish to wander, drifting through his past and his present, and slowly into the future. He eventually made it to the docks, and even though the trip felt no longer than a few minutes, he could tell it had been an hour or two since he left home by the way the sun sparkled just over the horizon, illuminating their small town with a warm glow.

The fisherman carefully tied his boat to his assigned piling that must’ve been thrice his age and retrieved his bucket of rewards from the hull, leaving his loyal fishing rod behind to stay and “guard” the boat. It was around six in the morning, he guessed, and the air was understandably chilly, although refreshing as it steadily filled his lungs.

He headed up to the local market, passing by the couple stragglers who had been awake much too long and the few proactive youth who held faith in the proverb ‘early to bed, early to rise’.

Following the worn path and swinging the pail in his grip, he whistled a random tune all the way to the market. He needlessly rapped his knuckles against the door before pulling it open, stepping inside as the tiny bell above it jingled delightedly at the store’s new patron.

The fisherman glanced around at the newly stocked shelves as he strolled to the back, resting his elbows on the counter when he finally reached his destination. Just then, the shop’s owner walked out from the back room.

“Niall!” he exclaimed happily, greeting the fisherman with a benign smile. “Back with another catch, eh?”

“‘Course,” he said with a grin, setting the heavy bucket onto the counter and graciously accepting the usual wad of cash from the owner. “What else would I be here for?”

The shopkeeper ducked down momentarily to grab a mat from under the counter, rolling it out and setting one of the fish upon it. “Dunno mate. Reckon you’d be up here to visit your best mate?”

“Eoghan, the world would have to end before a manky lad like you could be my ‘best mate’.”

“Cheeky today, are we?” He glared playfully at Niall while he prepared the salmon with experienced hands, chopping off the head and tail before scaling the fish with a dull knife.

“Besides, you’re the one who always reeks of fish.”

“Touché.” He watched for a bit as his friend continued to remove the iridescent scales. “Got any new curios in the shop?”

“Yeah, just over there.” He pointed his knife to a spot over Niall’s right shoulder, the blade suspiciously close to his face.

“Be back in a minute, then.”

He headed to the semi-hidden corner of the store, looking over the various handcrafted trinkets and exotic imports that dotted the shelves. Something shimmered in the corner of his eye and he turned to face it.

There was a ring sitting upon a small, satin pillow, its golden band—encrusted with faux-diamonds—polished to a bright sheen and cycling back to an intricately framed cut of emerald. It was enchantingly beautiful, perhaps too beautiful to be in the back of a local market.

He pinched the delicate treasure between his fingers, looking into the mesmerising stone. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he had seen the ring before, and his heart dropped when he figured it out.

He glared at the object in his hand, squeezing it tightly in his fist and preparing to throw it to the ground before his arm fell limply to his side.

The ring had done nothing wrong. The only one at fault was its previous owner.

There was a boy who had lived in their village once, born and raised there just as Niall had been. The two grew up together, their mothers being the best of friends and contributing greatly to the early start of the bond between the two boys. As time passed and they grew older, so did their friendship blossom into something more, something so beautiful and breathtaking that, even now, Niall's heart raced just thinking about it. They held hands by the calm waves and stole kisses under the star-lit sky, and, eventually, exchanged the three words that completely changed Niall’s life.

He could still remember the adoration in his voice, the softness of his touch, the tenderness of his kiss.

This was the ring that he’d given Niall along with a promise to never leave his side, and this was the ring that Niall had thrown into the sea in a fit of rage when two years later he found out the love of his life had wordlessly walked out to pursue his dreams without saying goodbye.

The fisherman felt a tear fall from his eye and he hastily wiped it away.

He took a deep breath to compose himself before walking back to Eoghan and his fresh salmon cuts, placing the ring down on the counter away from the fish.

“Somethin’ catch your eye?” His friend glanced at the ring and hummed appreciatively. “Good choice, mate.”

“Where did you get this?” He asked bluntly, hoping his voice didn’t sound as choked up as he felt.

“Interesting that you ask, I was just walking along the beach when I saw this beauty washed up on shore.”

Niall’s heart clenched. “How much you reckon it’s worth?”

Eoghan thumbed at his beard with a pensive look. “Mm… €40. Sound about right?”

“€40?” He didn’t want to admit it, but he found it a bit offensive that this ring—his ring—seemed to hold so little value to his dunce friend. Even without the bias, a ring like this could easily sell for €200. “You sure, mate?”

The shopkeeper sighed. “Look, Ni. Understand that I’d bring it down to €5 for you if I could, but a man’s gotta make a living somehow.”

He bit back a smile and fished for today’s earnings, pulling out two twenties and placing them in the cash register while Eoghan covered the cut fish and stored them away in the conjoined restaurant run by his sisters.

When he got back, he pointed warningly at Niall. “I’ve got my eye on you, Horan. When I check the register I better see those beautiful €40, you hear?”

Niall laughed freely, shaking his head and shouting a “piss off!” behind him before walking out the door, the bell ringing a cheerful farewell.

He glanced around the town as his boot-clad feet carried him back toward the sea. He still wore his fishing gear, but he could go home and change into something more his taste before officially starting his day. The sun had risen just above the water, its rays catching on the waves and thus creating thousands of sparkles above the rippling surface.

He slipped off his boots and rolled his trousers up to his shins before sinking his toes in the wet sand, the chilled, lazy waves lapping at his ankles.

The fisherman closed his eyes for a moment to just breathe in the salty air, listening to the calming sound of the sea and relishing the stillness of the moment. In another hour or so, the rest of the townspeople would be up and about, either heading to school or to work, or maybe even to a friend’s to start the day with a shared cup of coffee.

He opened his eyes once again, staring down at his fist. He slowly unclenched his hand, revealing the ring that must have been close to a decade old, and yet its prize gemstone glimmered timelessly in the hazy morning light. He cautiously slipped the ring onto his fourth finger and it fit perfectly, exactly as it had years ago when someone else had placed it there. His finger hovered over the captivating stone before he blinked back the tears forming in his eyes.

One would think he would have gotten over their childish fling soon after the boy had left and moved on, but here he was, single and so deeply in love with a boy—a man, now—whom he hasn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime. They were right when they said a person never got over their first love.

He wondered where he might be now, probably some high end job, maybe a CEO of a business or an extremely sought-after lawyer like his father always wanted him to be. Or maybe he had perused his interests in entertainment, and was now a world-famous actor, comedian, or singer, effortlessly capturing the hearts of his probable millions of fans just like he had captured Niall’s so long ago.

He was never meant for domestic life, Niall decided with a dejected sigh, the same conclusion he always came back to when he felt particularly masochistic.

Suddenly making an impulsive decision, he picked up his feet, treading the unmarked pathway to a secluded cave, protected from the outside world by a shield of vines and shrubbery that only the most perceptive could discern.

He pushed aside the overgrowth and stepped into the grotto, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as years of memories came flooding back to him.

The two of them had spent so much time here, maybe even more than they spent studying at school, Niall mused. He walked over to a marked portion of stone, tracing his fingers over the pattern without quite touching it, afraid that he’d wipe away the already peeling paint for good.

It was a lopsided red heart inscribed with a simple ‘ _H + N_ ’ and two plainly drawn stick figures underneath, both adorned with matching smiles. Niall could still remember laughing himself to tears over the rudimentary artwork.

It was sad to think that this was the only proof he had left of their love, before he had found the ring completely by chance.

It was strange, now that he thought about it. How was it even possible for a ring he had thrown into the sea forever ago to suddenly show up in Eoghan’s shop years later?

He shook the thought out of his head and, with a heavy heart, left the cave without a trace. Some things happened for a reason, and even if he couldn’t understand it, there was no changing the fact that it had happened. It was much easier to go along with whatever life threw in his way, something he learned soon after he was left behind with half a heart.

He was about to turn back around to head for his flat when he spotted a green bottle washed up on shore. His first thought was that someone had carelessly littered and he frowned in distaste, picking up the light bottle to dispose of properly at his house.

Up close though, he realised there was a paper rolled up inside. The fisherman unscrewed the lid and slipped the tied note out from the bottle.

As he undid the delicate bow holding the roll together, the idea that this could be one of the kids’ bouts of fun crossed his mind and he smiled fondly, expecting to see a crude crayon sketch or a fake ‘S.O.S.’.

He flattened out the stiff parchment and was surprised to see the page filled with a neat, swirling script. What shocked him even more was that it was addressed to him.

-

“ _My dearest Niall,_

_I know you will probably never see this. After all, the odds of finding a message in a bottle are extremely low. And the chances of you specifically being the recipient of mine are even slimmer—almost impossible. But you’ve always been able to beat the odds, right? I’m hoping that you’ll get to read this one day, but even if you don’t, at least I could say that I had the courage to get this down on paper._

_But the truth is, I’m just a coward. Instead of facing my problems, I run. I left you behind without an explanation for my own, selfish desires, and I cannot even begin to describe to you the crippling guilt I feel for it every second of every day. Not one moment goes by without me thinking about your lovely voice and your gorgeous laughter. Your beautiful blue eyes and your soft, golden hair. The small dimple in your left cheek that I wish I could kiss one more time._

_I miss you so much, baby. I don’t know how I have managed to survive without you, but I’ve come to realise that my life is entirely pointless if I can’t witness your smile or feel your touch._

_I’ve been gone too long, and I swear I will find my way back to you, even if it’s the last thing I ever do._

_Eternally yours,_

_H x_ ”

-

By the time he had finished reading the letter, his hands were shaking and the lump in his throat was even bigger than the stain of his tears smudging the expensive ink.

_He missed him_.

The fisherman’s weary heart was going into overdrive, the familiar sensation of lovesick nausea welling up inside him. He had no idea when this message had been sent. For all he knew, this had been left for him years ago and the other man had changed his mind. But for the first time in his life, his pessimism was quickly forgotten and replaced with an overwhelming sense of longing.

Tears spilled freely from his eyes now, and he hastily rolled up the note to protect the hallowed words from his ambivalence. What was he meant to feel? Happiness? He had finally received the words that for so many years he had been yearning to procure. And yet, he felt so unbelievably bitter. How could he do that to him? Sixteen years of friendship and two years of the most blissful kind of love thrown aside in the blink of an eye.

Niall swallowed down the cry burgeoning in his throat and crushed the paper in his fists.

The fisherman trudged home, feet dragging uphill along the make-shift roads until he reached his lonely house. He dropped his boots by the front door and sank into his unmade bed, inhaling the scent of his recently washed pillowcase. A moment passed as he let the morning fatigue and mundane anguish seep from his bones and into his bedsheets. His stomach grumbled loudly, but he only buried his face further into his pillow, eventually losing himself to the world of sleep.

-

By the time we woke from his slumber, it was just after noon, and the sun burned a brilliant white high in the sky. Niall rubbed at his eyes sleepily before dragging himself out of bed, grabbing a new change of clothes before walking into the bathroom to quickly shower and get ready for the day.

He was halfway out the door before he suddenly remembered the letter he had found, and he urgently rushed back to his room to find the crumpled up piece of paper lying on the floorboards carelessly. He swore under his breath, not knowing if he’d rather prefer his finding of it to have been a dream. He picked it up gingerly, straightening out the creases he had made earlier and folding it into a neat square to fit snugly in his wallet.

With that, he headed out to the town’s central plaza, which was nothing more than a cluster of stores and the village’s only school building. All the children learned together, separated by age group of course, and Niall supposed it was rather nice to be with familiar faces throughout his entire education, though the people in their town already functioned as one extended family, so school was more like a very well organised playdate.

Normally, he’d go in and volunteer to help a few of the teachers, specifically Mully, who’d been his friend since the age of three, but today he felt off. He loved being with the children, and they loved him in turn, and he wanted to give them nothing but the best he could offer. He took a detour to the east coast of the island, which was dotted with evergreen trees and various grasses. 

Making his way through the sparse forest, he came to a clearing, spotting a tree stump and sitting himself down on it. He stared into the open waters that seemed to go on forever, and he felt so liberated yet so confined.

He could understand why someone would want to leave their little, faraway island, but he couldn’t quell the acidity in his heart.

Just then, his eyes landed on another bottle. He frowned, walking over to it and once again feeling his heart race as he found paper within it.

He grabbed it, sitting back down on his make-shift chair and uncapping the bottle, letting the paper slide out. He was nonplussed when two notes fell to the ground, along with a small, glossy square. He picked up the bottle’s contents, looking first at the last of the three objects.

It was a folded Polaroid picture of two boys, one brunet and the other blond, with a messy ‘ _13/9/10 xx_ ’ scribbled on the back. The brunet had wild curls and dazzling green eyes, two perfect dimples framing the cheeky smile that had stolen the hearts of many. Niall glanced at the other boy in the photo who was a few inches shorter, and stared back into familiar blue eyes. It was him. His hair was resting flat against his forehead and his brunet roots could be seen from his lazy dye job. The two of them were grinning widely at each other, and Niall’s head swam as he remembered exactly when the picture had been taken.

That was the day Niall had turned seventeen, the day he had been gifted the fraudulent promise ring that now adorned his finger. He felt his eyes burn and he placed the photograph safely in the pocket of his jeans.

He then looked at the letters and began to read.

-

“ _ ~~To Whom It May Concern;~~_

_Niall,_

_I hate you. I hate you so much. What have you done to me? Why are you all that I think about? Why do you consume my every waking thought and haunt me when I lay down to rest? All I can picture when I close my eyes is your face, your ~~stupid, idiotic,~~ gorgeous face. All I can dream about is holding you in my arms and kissing you senseless. All I can imagine is the amount of tears you must have wasted on me and how you always looked so beautiful when you cried. And I want nothing more than to go back and make things right._

_Of course, I can’t do that. I'm the one that screwed everything up. I’m aware that I have no right to be upset, but I can’t seem to get rid of this feeling. Why must you be so utterly perfect? I’m trying so hard to find reasons to put you at fault, but I’m consistently drawing a blank. You were, and still are, the light of my life, Niall. I can’t get over you, no matter how hard I try._

_And I hate you for it. I hate you for being so lovable, so pretty, so genuine, so kind. I hate you for having such a heart of gold. I hate you for loving me despite my many flaws. I hate you for making my heart beat like crazy every time I think of you._

_I hate the fact that you’ve probably moved on by now, that you’re probably with someone else who can give you everything I couldn’t. I hate how likely it is that you have forgotten about me while I’m slowly wasting away in my solitude. I hate that I can never feel happy because of you, despite all that I’ve gained and everything that I’ve worked hard to earn._

_I hate how I love you so much that I can barely breathe._  
_H_ ”

-

Niall was speechless. What was there to say? It was as if he was too stunned to cry. All this time, and he’d had no idea about these feelings, feelings that seems to mirror his own exactly. He bit his trembling lip and stared blankly at the page, wishing he could find the author of these heartbreaking words and fall into his strong arms, cuddle in close to his neck and breathe in his cologne, just like he used to so long ago.

He moved on to the next letter with a shaky breath.

-

“ _Forget what I said. You know I could never hate you. I don’t know why I even waste my time writing these letters that you’ll never read. I don't know how I can still feel so strongly for you after all these years. I don’t know when I decided it would be a good idea to leave you and everything I’ve ever known behind, but I want to go back and smack myself in the head. I don’t know who I am, who I want to be. I don’t know what to do with myself._

_I don’t know anything, besides the fact that I am madly in love with you. I need you, Ni. I need you so badly I can hardly see straight._ ”

-

The fisherman finally allowed himself to cry.

-

Niall wiped away the remainder of his salty tears after his breathing eventually evened out, stashing the letters away in his wallet and starting the trek home. His thoughts completely consumed him, all centred around green eyes and broken promises.

After a few minutes he spotted the outskirts of town, heading toward his house until he heard the faint buzz of talk from the plaza. He debated with himself about whether or not he should see what was going on, but his curiosity won over, and he changed course to the town square, knowing that he’d just mope around the house if he didn't.

The fisherman soon caught sight of all the noise, noticing a rather large crowd talking excitedly with Anne right in the middle of it. He frowned, making his way up to the kind woman who’d become a second mother to him after his own had passed, hearing snippets of conversation as he cut through the crowd.

“ _He’s coming back?_ ”

“ _It’ll be nice to see how much he’s grown!_ ”

“ _Returning after ten years. Long time, ain’t it?_ ”

By the time he reached her he was completely baffled. He tapped her shoulder gently and greeted her with a small, confused smile.

“What’s all this about, Anne? Don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people out at the same time.”

“Niall, my son!” The woman gushed lovingly before smothering him in a hug despite him having several inches on her. “I was just looking for you, dear!”

“Yeah?” The fisherman frowned, patting her back comfortingly as he was being crushed in her surprisingly strong arms. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Anne pulled away at last and smiled widely at him, eyes a bit watery as she breathed, “He’s coming back, Niall. My baby is finally coming home.”

Niall’s blood went cold and he froze shock-still in Anne’s arms, shaking his head in disbelief. “He—what?”

“Harry’s coming home!”

He smiled shakily and stammered out an apologetic farewell before slipping away in the crowd, and thankfully, Anne was too overjoyed to sense his discontent.

He ran all the way home, stumbling a few times in his rush and just barely saving himself from falling headfirst into the gravelly pathways. Just as soon as he stepped inside his knees gave out and he sank to the floor, pressing his trembling hands to his face.

He was coming back. He was coming back, just like he promised he would.

He sat there against the door for what must have been hours before his weariness eventually caught up with him and he passed out for the night.

-

The fisherman was woken up by a burning sensation in his stomach, and only then did it occur to him that he hadn’t eaten anything that day. Or the day before, he noted, seeing the sun’s morning light shining through the windows. He stood up slowly, wincing at the cramp in his neck from the strange position he had slept in, and he stretched out his sore muscles with a loud yawn. He sluggishly made his way to the modest kitchen in his flat, grabbing a ripe apple from his fruit basket and taking a seat at the small table by the window overlooking the sea. He took a small bite from the red fruit and felt queasy as he chewed, but he forced himself to swallow it down and finish the entire apple.

He thought about what Anne had shared with him and the rest of the village just yesterday, and cursed himself for forgetting to ask when exactly her son would be arriving. He tossed the apple core in the rubbish bin before walking to the restroom to shower and brush his teeth.

Instead of stepping into his fishing gear, he decided on a simple white dress shirt and trousers, since today was his and the rest of the townspeople’s off-day. He slipped into his dress shoes and grabbed his suit jacket from his coat closet before stepping outside and heading to the church building along with everyone else. He settled down in one of the pews, bounding his leg nervously before someone placed a hand over his knee as they sat down beside him.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

Niall huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one who wears knickers, Lou.”

Louis scoffed and placed a hand over his heart, making him once again roll his eyes at his idiotic friend. “Are you implying that I do, Horan?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

Louis bumped their shoulders together and glared at him playfully. “That was one time! And you promised we wouldn’t bring this up ever again!”

Niall laughed joyously at his friend’s expense, earning a fond chuckle from the man beside him.

“Anyways,” Louis started once they’d quieted down, briefly eyeing the people filing in for morning mass before turning to face him fully. “It’s about him, isn’t it?”

“No,” he blurted quickly, the easy grin on his face dropping as he unconvincingly feigned confusion.

His smartly-dressed friend peered at him sceptically, and the fisherman squirmed under his stare before sighing. “Fine. Yes. It’s him.”

“Oh, Niall.” Louis pulled him in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles into his back, and Niall buried his nose into Louis’ collared shirt, shutting his eyes tightly. “It’ll be okay, mate. Won't it be nice to see him again?”

Niall nodded after a moment of hesitation, retracting himself from Louis’ warm embrace when he felt a few pairs of eyes on them. “Yeah. Guess so.”

His friend squeezed his knee comfortingly just as their priest cleared his throat, wishing the townspeople a buoyant good morning before beginning his preaching. Niall found it extremely ironic that today’s sermon was centred around love and loss.

-

It was around noontime now, and mass had long since concluded.

The fisherman found himself strolling along the shoreline just like he always seemed to, except this time he was searching for something.

A bottle-shaped, note-packed something.

He had spent almost two hours meticulously scanning the beach, exploring every nook and cranny he knew of. He’s begun to feel the familiar buildup of disappointment a while back when he still hadn’t managed to find anything, but just as he was about to give up his pursuit he detected an object in his peripheral vision that matched all of his pre-set qualifications.

He grabbed eagerly at the bottle, twisting off the cap and shaking the stationary into his other hand.

This time, a small, golden earring fell out along with the letter.

The fisherman assessed the trinket as it glowed under the sun’s rays before going to rest at rather a large rock as his eyes flitted over the page.

-

“ _My beautiful Niall,_

_I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Did I mention that I love you? Well, I do, endlessly. I love you, Niall James. I could repeat myself a million times, but it would never be enough to express the depth of my feelings for you._

_I know you will never get to see this, so I think it’s safe to admit that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It’s only been three weeks and I already regret my ill-conceived decision. I’ve been considering giving up on my plan to “build a new life” for myself, because honestly, I don’t want a new life. I want you._

_I wish I had taken you with me to London. You would love it here. They have exotic restaurants at every corner and the people here are quite charming. Most of them anyway. Reckon it’s the gloomy weather that bogs the mean ones down. I wish I could wrap my arms around your waist and pull you down into the cozy little bed in the corner of my room and cuddle you when the nights get cold, which they so often do. I wish I could kiss your red nose and flushed cheeks as we walk out from a little hole-in-the-wall café, our breaths warm and mingling while I lean in close to finally kiss your chapped pink lips._

_I wish I could do so many things, big and small, to show you how much I adore you, but no number of actions will be worthy of your brilliance. You deserve everything this life could offer, from the tiny butterflies you love so dear to the twinkling stars of the farthest reaches of the universe._

_And that is what I truly regret. Not being able to give that to you. Not being strong enough for you. N_ _ot being there for you when you were always there for me._

_But believe me when I say that I do, and always will, love you. I don’t think anything can change that, not even my own, naïve stubbornness._

_One last time: I love you, baby boy. So, so much._

_H xx_

_P.S. If by some miracle you do end up finding this, I’m sorry for stealing your earring. I couldn’t help myself from taking it from your bedside drawer the night I left: I needed to keep a part of you with me. It was the first thing you bought after your mum finally let you pierce your ears to indulge your silly “punk rock” phase. I’m sending it back in this bottle to ease my conscience. God, I miss you_.”

-

A strange sort of laugh fell from the fisherman’s lips as he read the letter’s postscript, the sound both joyous and grieving. The boy he fell in love with always had a way with words, and Niall supposed that would never change. He ran his finger delicately over the handwritten words, hovering slightly over the eight “I love yous” before folding the note fastidiously and slipping it into his pocket.

The earring still resided in his palm, and he thumbed at it a bit before storing it along with his letter and walking home.

-

Only when he was on the brink of sleep that night did it occur to Niall that there might be dozens, hundreds even, of Harry’s letters lost at sea, accompanied by various keepsakes and photos of theirs never to be retrieved. At least, not in their lifetime. He sat there, much more awake than he had been a mere minute before, thinking about why the letters were composed in the first place.

If Harry missed him as much as he claimed, Niall thought bitterly, why hadn’t he come back for him? Why did it take so long, so many tearful nights on Niall’s end, for him to finally make the decision?

The fisherman swallowed the bile rising in his throat and willed himself to sleep.

-

A groan and a few curses was what could be heard from the Horan household shortly after the jarring alarm clock began its harping.

Despite following this routine for God knows how long, Niall still wasn’t particularly fond of waking up at three every morning to get to work. But he, along with everyone else, had his duties, and those duties just so happened to be getting up much too early to catch enough fish to make a living.

So with one last, longing glance at his soft pillow, he stumbled into the shower to get himself ready for the open sea.

-

Niall smiled contentedly as he rowed himself and his buckets, filled with his captives of the sea, back home. Today’s weather was unusually pleasant, especially for this time of the morning. The sun shone warmly and there was a gentle breeze kissed his skin ever so slightly. He could hear the faint cry of gulls as he docked his boat swiftly to the pier and hauled his two buckets of salmon and cod to the market. By the time he reached, he had perspired a bit from the strain of lugging his thalassic cargo uphill.

He set his pails down momentarily to knock at the shop’s door, as per tradition, before picking them up again and stepping inside. He frowned when he saw no sign of Eoghan behind the counter, and a quick search of the backroom confirmed his suspicions that his friend wasn’t in. He sighed, walking over to the restaurant and into the kitchen, surprised to find that Eoghan’s sisters were also missing. He benevolently stored his morning catch within the refrigerator, writing a quick note on the empty chalkboard in the front, meant for the day’s menu, before stepping back out.

He found it strange that there was nobody around, not even the usual early birds. Perhaps he finished his fishing quicker than he thought. He was on his way back to his house when the question growing in his mind was finally answered.

It seemed like everyone in their village was in the square, crowded around… something in a jumbled heap—which was strange in itself because most of these people didn’t wake up until mid-morning—and the fisherman wasn’t sure how he had missed that. Was it someone’s birthday? No, the closest was Aunt Jo’s, and that wasn’t for a few weeks at least. Had someone… died? He prayed to God that wasn’t the case.

He approached the crowd curiously, getting an off-putting sense of déjà vu as he neared closer to the excited people of his hometown. He frowned even further when a few of them caught him watching and beckoned him cheerily, and soon he was being eagerly pushed into the middle of the assembly.

Despite his resistance, he reached the centre at last, and he was just about to shout irritably at whoever had been the last to shove him before his breath caught painfully in his throat.

He was staring straight into the green eyes that had been haunting him for the past decade, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a few too many beats to be considered healthy.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, feeling faint all of a sudden as he looked him up and down, taking in his perfectly-tailored suit and meticulously-styled curls. His shocked expression and his twitching fingers, as if he wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Niall.” Harry was practically beaming at him, dimples so deep they were like craters in his cheeks as he stepped closer to him, eyes dancing about all over Niall’s face before finally meeting his own. “Hi.”

A startled laugh was ripped out of him and the fisherman peered at him incredulously. “‘Hi’? Wha—no! You can’t just waltz in after disappearing for ten bloody years and—and—”

He groaned in frustration at his sudden inability to articulate his words, blinking furiously to keep his tears at bay.

“Niall, I’m sorry,” Harry urged, quickly rushing to explain himself as Niall began to look frantic. “I didn’t mean for this—”

“You’re sorry? For—for what? For abandoning your home? For dropping everything you had to—to hide away in some stupid corner of the world? For leave—leaving us behind?”

“Babe—” Niall cut him off sharply.

“You left us, Harry!” He spat, limbs shaking with years worth of suppressed emotion finally being released. “You left _me_.”

A sob escaped through his lips and he stood there, not noticing the crowd had politely dwindled away, knowing the two of them needed space. “You left me all alone, you fucking idiot. I— _Harry_.”

The fisherman fell into his body and Harry was there to catch him, finally. Niall gripped tightly at his suit jacket that was probably much too expensive to have his tears all over it, but Harry didn’t seem to care about his clothes as he hugged him back just as tight. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could feel the silent sobs of the man in his arms, and he quickly forced himself away.

“ _Fuck_. I’m so sorry. I—this is supposed to be a good day for you. I just—sorry.” He felt incredibly insufficient to be in Harry’s presence, dressed simply in his mundane hip waders and fleece top, teary-eyed and not at all composed like he promised himself he would be if he ever saw him again.

Harry said nothing, only stared intensely at him in a way that always made him blush as a teenager and, evidently, now as an adult. He brought his hand up to Niall’s flushed cheek and wiped delicately at the wetness there, sighing softly before opening his mouth. “I get so lost inside your eyes, did you know?”

The fisherman groaned and shut his eyes, embarrassed at Harry’s endearing bluntness. “ _Harry_.”

He laughed, hooking a thumb under Niall's chin to tip his head up to face him once more. They shared the same breath as they looked each other over once more, so familiar yet so different.

“I got your letters,” Niall whispered after a moment, and Harry’s face instantly bloomed a brilliant scarlet, grinning sheepishly at him.

“Oh. You did, huh?”

He nodded at him with a fond smile, all of his precious anger dissipating and he reached up to play with one of the chocolate curls spilling over onto his forehead. “Yeah.”

Harry was trying to hide his grin but ultimately failing, making Niall laugh lightly as the two of them blocked out the outside world, falling evenly into place as if they were two lovestruck teenagers all over again.

“I meant what I said,” Harry mumbled earnestly, arms falling to wrap loosely around Niall‘s waist. “I love you. So much.”

Niall only shook his head, unable to speak as his heart swelled tremendously in his chest. Harry seemed to know exactly how he felt because his green eyes sparkled impishly, the last thing Niall saw before he leaned in and closed the gap between them.

Harry was home, and Niall was finally happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m sorry for the cheesy song references :~]  
> (and also for any spelling/grammatical errors)


End file.
